


Ahead

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 09:00:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11574774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Legolas greets his guest.





	Ahead

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for har-maguedon’s “Haldir&Legolas [...] with Nº9 Dear” request on [my tumblr](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/) [from this list](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/post/163120603835/prompt-list-4).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Lord of the Rings or any of their contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He tells the butler that he’ll be there in only a moment, and Galion bows his head and repeats, “It can wait until the morning, my prince; I only came at all because he claimed to be your friend.”

“And he is,” Legolas answers, glancing over his shoulder with a ribbon caught in his mouth, his long hair gathered up between his fingers. Galion lifts both brows but says no more, merely exits the chambers, and Legolas is allowed to return to his own thoughts. He finishes finger-combing back the golden strands and ties it all up in a slick ponytail, wishing he had time for a proper braid. He’s sure he looks exactly as sleep-addled as he is.

But then, his guest has seen him in far worse condition, with twigs and leaves in his hair, and he was still told at their first meeting just how _beautiful_ he was.

Legolas would prefer to appear in elegant, royal robes, with exquisite hair and an array of rings and a crown to make his father proud. But there’s no time for that, not if he wishes to make it before other arrangements are made. He’s sure Galion’s picking out guest chambers now. Legolas tosses his legs over the side of his bed and tiptoes towards his mirror in just bare feet. His night robes are of the finest silk, pure white and nearly translucent, but they’ll have to do for this. He draws the sash about his waist tighter and checks that his eyes don’t bear dark circles. He knows there’s no reason to fret. But he’d be a vision if he could—his father _always_ greets guests in prime condition.

Legolas doubts he’ll ever be his father. But he’d like to be just as stunning. When he emerges from his chambers, the guards that stand outside politely avert their gaze; he’s sure he must still look dreadfully inappropriate.

He hurries down the halls anyway, as swiftly as he can manage without appearing exactly as over-eager as he is. It’s a long way down to the entrance to the palace, but he’s sure his guest will at least wait a few minutes; surely Legolas is worth that. Surely Galion would report that he’s coming. By the time Legolas sweeps into the main corridor, he’s nearly breathless from his run, chilled in the night air. It’s worth the rush.

Haldir looks around him, handsome face drawn in surprise, deep eyes widening at the flimsy fabric that kicks about Legolas’ feet as he wades closer. He can’t help himself. He’s crossed the space in a heartbeat, his arms falling open, and then he’s swept up in Haldir’s thicker ones, held close in a tight embrace.

Haldir’s body is every bit as _warm_ as he remembers it. It feels every bit as right. Haldir presses against the side of his face and murmurs again his ear, “I am sorry it took me so long to come.”

As they finally part, Legolas merely shakes his head. It isn’t _so_ long, not in the life of an elf, though these last several years have felt far swifter than the centuries that came before. Haldir had a large part to play in that. Legolas’ hands disentangle from Haldir’s back, but only to clutch at Haldir’s arms, keeping them close. Haldir is dressed to travel, tired but strong, his dark-gold hair swept down over broad shoulders. Legolas breathes him in and asks, “To what do I owe this pleasure at all? Last I checked, you could not leave your woods.”

The soft smile that comes to Haldir’s lips is accompanied by a sadness in his eyes. Legolas would retract the question if he could, but Haldir already sighs, “I thought so. But it seems it was my lord and lady that I could not leave, and they have chosen to sail at last. ...My home has changed much since your party’s success, Legolas. I was invited to return across the sea with them, as all my people were, but many chose to stay. I had thought I might. ...But with them gone, I knew where my heart lay. Though my time with you was brief and fleeting over the years, you grew very dear to me during those times. And I found I could neither stay nor sail without knowing if there might be more to have with you.”

Legolas can feel his own grin growing wide. It dimples his cheeks, and he wants to laugh, something joyous and full of song, though he holds his tongue out of respect—he knows the diminishment of Lothlórien’s fair glory is nothing to celebrate. At least, as Haldir eyes him, that sadness seems to leave Haldir’s face. He traces, instead, the long line of Legolas’ body with his gaze, not missing how much is revealed in these robes meant for sleep, and even Legolas’ bare toes, cold against the stone. When Legolas still says nothing, trying too hard to hold in his pure delight, Haldir asks, “Might your guard need a new soldier, perhaps?”

“That is a matter for my father to decide tomorrow,” Legolas answers, for that, at least, he knows he can say. “Tonight, I think you have had a long enough journey, and you must require rest. I happen to know just the bed where you might have it.”

Haldir grins, the sort of sly look that only _wood elves_ get, though he does pause to glance aside at the guards on either side of the vast chamber. Legolas pays them no mind; they’ll say nothing of their prince’s impropriety. He slips his hand down into Haldir’s, softly thumbing the smooth skin of Haldir’s palm, and Haldir tells him, “I would be delighted.”

So Legolas draws him forward, deeper into the palace, where Legolas can admit, “You know, you are very dear to me as well.”


End file.
